When I heard that the Deputy President and Hustler Number 1, Dr William Ruto, had been vaccinated with the Russian antidote, I decided that I, too, would take the same vaccine. The reasons are quite obvious.
You see, while I may not belong to his political party, and will not vote for him since I will be a senior IEBC election management official, just like him, I have always been a hustler at heart. There is nothing I haven’t tried, legal or illegal! From selling mandazi to rearing quails, conducting tuition sessions, operating a pedagogical academy, offering laptop services and charcoal burning.
Dr Ruto and I are also sharp dressers and have achieved great academic success. He got his PhD recently, something I will also do once I clear the little statistical matter.
When I later learnt how expensive the Russian vaccine was, that is when I knew that there are hustlers and real hustlers. I, however, was not worried because I was very sure that the price would soon come done. Just like that of masks. A year ago, one blue mask was going for over Sh60. Today, they are almost being distributed for free.
Were it not for some enemies of development inside the deepest of the deep state, the price of the Russian antidote, whose name I can’t remember and couldn’t even pronounce, would have come down, and the jab would have become available for all hustlers countrywide.
Since I am one of the people who religiously observe all Covid protocols, I was not worried about the vaccination as I had minimised any opportunities of getting infected.
But it would seem that Fiolina had other ideas. Last Monday, her employer organised for them to be vaccinated since she is a frontline sales person. Yet she stays in the bedroom the whole day conducting meetings on her laptop through a programme called Voom. I wondered if one can get infected via the laptop, then I remembered that mine got the virus from another laptop through a CD!
A day after Fiolina was vaccinated, as expected, she developed side effects, although hers were unique. She became moody, quiet, and wanted nothing to do with me. She did not even want me to touch her, saying that having been vaccinated, she would not expose herself by coming in contact with someone who was always outside the house.
“I never go out,” she told me. “Sitaki uniletee mdudu kutoka nje ,” she added, pushing me away. For two nights, we slept a metre apart facing different directions, not even sharing a blanket.
I tried telling her we were safe since she had been vaccinated and I was using mask protection, but she would hear none of that, “Until I get the second sindano , I am still at risk.”
Tired of the cold lonely nights, I decided to get vaccinated on Thursday. I asked around and was told to go to Kakamega General Hospital. There would be a long queue, and my only way out was if I was old or a VIP. Since I could not add my age, transforming into a VIP was my only option.
I wore my new four-pocketed, short sleeved, tight green Kaunda suit. I didn’t button it to show everyone my tight, stylish, blue and green Komesha Corona T-shirt. This matched with yellow socks, completing the look with a new pair of black sharpshooter shoes, the type that made students start calling me Mwalimu Jini!
I then put on my dark spectacles, making me look executive. I did not wear the normal blue masks. That day Fiolina gave me some white ones, which I learnt were called AK45, made by the same Russians who made the AK-47, and known for their ability to identify any virus from far. I was carrying an empty laptop bag in one hand, and an old newspaper in the other!
There was a long queue when I arrived, but thanks to my dressing, I was immediately singled out by one of the officials and taken straight to the tent where the vaccine was being administered. As we walked, I pretended to be busy on the phone, speaking rather loudly. “I can confirm that the efficacy of Astra-Senegal is much higher than that of Johnson... The side effects are mild… Waziri let me call you after my jab.” There was no one on the other side!
I greeted everyone and was shown where to sit as one of the nurses helped me fill forms. She then asked me to remove the Kaunda coat and T-shirt. As expected, all eyes were on me. Not only was I well dressed, but my athletic, muscular body was the attraction of everyone, including nurses who were injecting other people, but with their eyes glued on me. You see, that morning I had applied enough Vaseline on my body and was shining brightly.
“You look quite amazing,” said the nurse, taking her time to measure my temperature while touching my biceps for long. Photos were taken as she injected me with the vaccine for I had been informed that the vaccine does not work if a photo is not taken!
“You are quite a piece of art,” she said once she was done “Are you really from Kakamega or Nairobi? I have never seen you.” I told her I had arrived that morning and was returning to Nairobi the same day. Once done, I was ushered out and escorted up to the gate. Like a VIP!
Fiolina was very happy when I showed her the photos of my vaccination experience. Her only issue was with the nurse who was injecting me and the others who were looking at me. “They are all admiring your muscles not knowing how hard I have worked hard on you!”
And the benefits of vaccinating were instant. That night, although we went to bed early, for obvious reasons, we slept late. Very late!
